Crystal's One Night of Love

Chapter 244 Whose Child Is It

In the cloak of the night, nestled in the narrow alley, stood an age-worn dwelling.

Henry’s gaze was fixated on his younger sister, who he had doted on for many years. He examined her attire, plain to the point of austerity, and the crumbling structure that served as her shelter.

His eyes throbbed with a sting that could not be suppressed, and the fingers that clutched his cigarette trembled subtly.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, he stepped inside the place and scanned around. “Where’s the kid?”

Melora was taken aback. “Has Crystal told you?”

Henry responded in a helpless tone, “Do you expect her to help you keep it a secret and watch as you continue living in this squalor? Whose child is it?”

Up until that moment, he was truly oblivious to the identity of the child’s father.

Melora wouldn’t let him in the room.

Henry extinguished his cigarette, exhaling the last puff of smoke. “Who is it?”

No matter who the father was, he wanted to beat him up so badly and break his teeth.

Melora blocked the door, pleading in a hushed voice, “Berthold and I are doing fine. Henry, I can support him on my own. Please don’t ask anymore!”

Henry’s eyes reddened.

He was but half a step away from her. With an outstretched arm, he pulled her to the side and entered the room.

The bedroom was of meager proportion, not even covering ten square meters.

An aged bed and a tiny desk housing several dozen magazines was all it contained.

Henry flicked through the trashy magazines, all showcasing Melora on the cover, the young lady of the Miller family.

He swallowed hard, making his way toward the old bed.

On it, lay a small child, slumbering peacefully.

His skin was fair, and he had a full head of dark brown hair.

Henry’s eyes turned bloodshot at the familiar eyes and unique hair color.

He no longer needed to ask Melora who the father was, as there was no need to do so anymore!

Henry whirled around, his eyes burning holes into his little sister.

Melora’s lips quivered, and her face contorted in distress as she pleaded, “Henry, don’t look for him! Don’t… I’ve broken up with him.”

Henry reached out, tenderly touching the little boy.

He paused and asked gently, “Him? Which him? Melora, tell me.”

Melora covered her mouth in shock.

It dawned on her that Henry must have realized who the father was.

Henry’s voice was dangerously low as he said, “When did you two become a thing? Do you understand what you’re doing? He’s at least ten years older than you. A man of his stature, in his forties and still unmarried, has had his share of meeting women from all walks of life, so why would he be attracted to a greenhorn like you?”

Melora was crushed.

She knew she had been punching above her weight.

Henry didn’t ask anymore. He took off his coat, put it on little Berthold, and gently lifted.

“Henry!” Melora clutched his arm, begging.

In the dim light, Henry’s expression was as calm as still water. “Either you come home with me now, or I call Alfred to pick you and your son up. You decide.”

Melora had no choice.

She packed some clothes and followed Henry.

they descended the stairs, Berthold

stared at Henry with a hint of fear in

gently, “I am your uncle. Your mommy is here

relaxed, closing

little boy into the

into the car, murmuring, “Could you not tell

“You’re afraid now?”

and got in. He was infuriated and wanted to smoke. However, he refrained from doing so out

a long silence, he gently stepped on

hour later, the car slowly pulled into the mansion’s

disturb Crystal for she had her own worries. The sound of the opening. and closing of the door stirred her

stairwell, she saw Henry holding Berthold, with Melora

for

a hushed tone. “Let Berthold sleep with Skyler tonight. You go and talk with

Crystal nodded.

staircase again,

gingerly tucking the tiny boy into the warm bed where Crystal

was too soft, or the day had

awoke just a sliver, her eyes cracking open into slits before she rolled over, pulling Berthold close to her as if she

were strikingly

heart soften at the

patted Berthold. “This child takes

aback, wore her

voice. “You must have

more

softly, “Don’t let the children hear you.

her a fierce glare, but

wore an armor of courage. “Don’t take your anger out on me,” she warned him boldly as she exited

tense look

her hand. “Stay with Melora. I’ll head to the study for a

agreed with a

them, grievances yet addressed. Yet, when faced with the situations at home, they instinctively leaned on one another for

do? After all, I

to the guest room. Softly, she began, “Don’t mind your brother’s Let’s freshen up first. Let

as Crystal was about to step out, Melora

tidal wave of emotion

should have

in a soft

for us to eat. You take a

Melora nodded.

By the time everything

dressed in her own cotton pajamas, the

Crystal noticed.

beckoned with a tremble in her voice,

and began

was silent, no longer the chatterbox who couldn’t stop talking like a print machine on a

simply kept her

tears. “Crystal, I’m scared. He couldn’t marry me back then, and

could she dwell

the past two years, she had single-handedly raised their child, living

Alfred had shared good times together. However, they were swept away by the winds of time

would spot him in the newspaper. He was still the dignified and spirited. Alfred

she, Melora Miller, had lost her youthful radiance.

“Your brother will, after all, need to vent his anger. But he

poor girl nodded

settling Melora in, Crystal went to see Henry in

door of the study. The room was dim, save

ashtray before him was filled to the brim, a

walked to the window, and cracked

“You’re smoking too much! Aren’t

watched her

any other night, as Crystal voluntarily approached him, sat on his lap, and tenderly

out the cigarette and

finally spoke in a hoarse whisper, “Crystal, have I failed? If I hadn’t insisted on going to Kingdom of Brundela back then, your uncle and Melora may not have had the chance to get together. Those days Alfred spent in the hospital must have been a breeding

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